No Comment (1/?)
Title: No Comment (1/?)
Author: Chwitchety
Rating: PG
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: Dont own Grey's or these characters, just taking them for a spin. No profit.
Summary: TBC News Reporter Callie Torres is covering a high profile Court Case. But what is up with the Junior Partner on the Prosecution Team, Arizona Robbins?
A/N: First off, the way to read this, is to come at it the way you watch Rizzoli and Isles: The plot may have holes in it the size of a moon crater, or may not be feasible in a literal sense, but this is a story about characters, so you go with it. I know the bare minimum when it comes to the law in my own country, let alone America, so...basically lets as a group focus on the fluffyangst, k? Dont come cryin' at me about section blahdiblah of the constitution and whatnot.
A/N2: Sorry peeps. Tried save up chapters before posting, but alas I am a fickle sort. Got a couple in the bank, but I remain in awe of those who can post regularly and with big word counts.
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“God!”
Calliope Torres, Exclusive TBC Current Affairs field reporter, frustratedly removed the offending windswept hair strands from her newly applied lipstick. Pushing the hair behind her ears, she raised the small compact mirror up to appraise the effect. A modern feminist take on old Hollywood glamour. She primped the bob hopefully and wiped the excess lipstick from the corners of her mouth. It was the third time she had attempted to put her makeup on today. Waking up late, she had miraculously caught a green light luck-out and arrived at the Court House on time, if somewhat disheveled with barely a chance to eyeline at a fortuitous traffic light.
“Cristina, check this for me.”
Callie turned around to face her apathetic cameraman, sat slouched on a public bench, popping gum. Cristina barely seemed to register her comment and Callie raised her eyes heavenwards and exhaled.
“Hey. Slacky McBored. You owe me. Check my makeup. You ruined it before.”
Ten minutes earlier, Cristina had bound up to Callie with the enthusiasm only born of an action junkie to inform her that David Cross had arrived. Body on the line, intrepid reporter Calliope Torres, did not let the fact she only had one eyelid eye-shadowed bother her, and had rushed to get the exclusive interview with…Guy Doom - the local schizophrenic character, handkerchief permanently across his face in the event of chemical warfare. Cristina’s eyes had wandered sheepishly under Callie’s death glare before shrugging apologetically and wandering over to the bench, camera in hand.
“I didn’t ruin it. You have no organizational skills.”
Callie’s eyebrows rose. “I have plenty. Check my makeup.”
“It’s fine.”
“You didn’t even look.”
“Would you listen if I had a comment?”
“Probably not.”
“So, it’s fine.”
Torn between strangling and dropkicking her partner, Callie settled for collapsing down onto the bench beside her, arms outstretched over the back of the seat, and crossing one Jimmy Choo donned leg over the other in annoyance.
“You are utterly useless, you know that?”
“And yet the awards on my mantlepiece say otherwise. Why don’t you harass Pretty Boy?”
Callie glanced at Cristina before looking around, eyes settling on the ruggedly handsome RDTV reporter standing twenty metres away running through test intros with his crew.
“Who, Mark? His forte is ‘what dress looks good with those boobs’ not ‘foundation tones and when to use them’.”
“Hmmm.” Cristina sounded unconvinced.
Callie let it go. The morning sun was full of soft warmth, soothing her as she basked in it. Breathing the crisp, fresh air deeply through her nose, she felt her entire body relax. “So when are they coming?”
Cristina shrugged her shoulders slightly. “Any minute.”
It was big news.
High profile politician and beloved golden boy, David Cross, was the first openly gay elected official to ‘come out’, so to speak, of The South. Bringing with him his partner of 11 years, John Hillbank, everything had been running smoothly until John contracted kidney cancer. An operation had been urgently needed when David was informed that his health insurance did not, contrary to previous reassurance, cover his partner. In this very real life and death situation, $10,000 had been noted to have mysteriously disappeared from the budget and John, Medal of Courage bedecked firefighter, had undergone the surgery.
It hadn’t taken much effort to put 2 and 2 together.
The public had, from whichever perspective, been outraged. The Times and the Post had ranged from reserved to disparaging. The embezzlement was universally frowned upon, but the circumstances…well…and the buzz, on this first court day of Cross vs. State, was that Cross held the winning hand. Information was tight, but something was definitely going to be thrown into the mix today. And 26 news crews were waiting on the Courthouse steps to find out exactly what that was.
Callie bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I bet he’s got something in writing. There’s no other way.”
Cristina shook her head, “Nope, apparently the contract didn’t cover civil unions.”
Callie looked over at her in astonishment. “How -”
“Friends in low places. Only hearsay. If you are going by the contract, he is well and truly screwed, but he’s got something. He’s definitely got something. Why do you think it’s taken so long to come to trial? Prosecution trying to cover their asses over whatever it is.”
As if on cue, Callie caught sight of the luxury car drawing up to the curb.
“Speaking of.”
She nodded in the direction of the car as she pushed herself off the bench and straightened her skirt. Cristina’s head whipped around as the Chief Barrister of the Prosecution began to step out of the car. Grasping the camera and hoisting it to her shoulder in a practiced fashion, she broke into a light jog, “Let’s go.”
Evidently all 25 of the other news crews had noticed the new arrival and within the 100 yards it took for the TBC News Team to make their way over to Mr Webber, there was already a small throng forming. A second car pulled up behind the Chief’s and out of the curb door stepped the Webber&Grace Intern, Alex Karev, self-satisfied smile on his face at the furor their arrival was causing. Out of the roadside door, a glinting head of blonde - professionally pulled back into a tight twist - emerged: Arizona Robbins, Junior Partner.
“Mr Webber!”
“…comment on the State’s take on…”
“INTV News, sir, can we…”
“What will - Ms Robbins - what…”
“Look this way, Mr Karev!”
“TBC News!”
Callie tried to get a word in edgeways as the throng collectively moved up the Courthouse steps following the three-person Prosecution team. Upon reaching three quarters of the way up, Webber swung majestically around to face his captive audience. A hush fell as he began to speak, only camera flashes audible.
“Today is a day about truth and justice. I plan to find the truth and deliver its justice. I have worked hard to be given the privilege of this heavy responsibility, and it is my duty to perform it as such, regardless of personal circumstance. Mr Cross has found himself unable to separate his personal circumstance with the responsibility he was elected to and he has made a rash choice. There are many difficult situations in life, but it is my job to protect and serve the people and their resources. And I intend for that today.”
Callie strained to push the TBC microphone closer without falling over, as Webber paused, then with grand condescension, added, “Thank you.”
Immediately the excitement started back up again.
“Webber! Mr Webber, can you…”
Desperately hoping Cristina was close at hand, Callie saw a small space to squeeze into bringing her within touching distance of the exquisitely pant-suited Junior Partner.
“Ms Robbins, TBC News, what is the exclusive information David Cross has that affects this case?”
Arizona Robbins looked rather annoyed. It was a well known media industry fact that photos of women sold papers and bought ratings. Men like looking at women and women like judging other women. Especially rather good looking women that happened to be successful in their line of work, which was the category Arizona Robbins found herself in. She was subsequently copping the brunt of the media frenzy, all positively enthralled at the prospect of a photogenic woman to give a face to their story. Arizona turned sharply at Callie’s question, lips in an understated expression of distaste.
And did a double take.
It was ever so subtle, but it was there. Callie’s mind went into overdrive. Fuck. She could get away with shitty makeup with men, but women weren’t so easy. Her fucking eyeliner, she knew it had been too thick. She had probably wiped it up the side of her temple. And the woman had noticed. Goddamn.
Arizona’s eyes flicked up to meet her own.
“No…No comment.”
And they were gone.
Callie stood on the steps watching the Courthouse doors they had disappeared through feeling a mixture of confusion and frustration. Cristina appeared at her elbow.
“What DO you have on your face?”
Callie turned her face towards Cristina and gestured accusingly up and down her face.
“I told you to check it.”
Perusing, unaffected by the animosity being directed towards her, the cameraman pursed her lips. “Looks okay.”
“Looks okay?” Callie raised an eyebrow and gazed back at the doors. “But you caught that right?”
Cristina sighed and began to walk up the steps to the Courthouse entrance, turning backwards to face Callie on her ascent.
“If by ‘that’ you mean, did I shoot useless footage of your exclusive, thrilling ‘No comment’ interview where the most interesting thing is the off-camera reporter’s face, then yes I did.”
Callie blinked. “Where are you going?”
Cristina lifted her camera slightly and grinned conspirationally. “Taking the initiative.” She turned around and walked directly into a blue polyester donned chest.
“Initiative stops here.”
Hearing the delighted snigger from Callie behind her, she wiped her face blank and raised a guilt-free expression up to discover the shock of red-hair.
“I’m so sorry, Officer, I appear to be lost.”
Another snort from Callie.
The Security Guard looked down cynically, meeting her eyes.
“I have the feeling you’re the kind of girl that couldn’t get lost in a desert, even if she tried.”
“I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean, Officer -” she glanced at his name badge, “Owen.”
Intelligent eyes sparkled.
“You know, if someone did want to take any initiative, they’d probably get in good with the security guard working this week.”
Cristina cocked her head. “Well, that would be good advice to anyone with initiative, of which I am not.” Cool as a cucumber, she turned back to Callie giving her a flash expression of intense victory before grabbing her arm and dragging her back down the steps. Callie glanced back at the security guard, who was watching their retreating forms and grinning with open mouthed incredulity.
“What was that?”
“That, was just our exclusive in.”
“I love my job.”
“Don’t I though?”
Reaching the bottom of the steps, the pair meandered back to the bench to sit down and wait for the appearance of David Cross and his lawyer. Crossing her legs again, Callie relaxed her head backwards and took in the miles of blue, stretched across the sky. No clouds today. Her mind wandered.
That was the colour. Sky-blue. Her eyes were sky-blue.
Author: Chwitchety
Rating: PG
Pairing: Callie/Arizona
Disclaimer: Dont own Grey's or these characters, just taking them for a spin. No profit.
Summary: TBC News Reporter Callie Torres is covering a high profile Court Case. But what is up with the Junior Partner on the Prosecution Team, Arizona Robbins?
A/N: First off, the way to read this, is to come at it the way you watch Rizzoli and Isles: The plot may have holes in it the size of a moon crater, or may not be feasible in a literal sense, but this is a story about characters, so you go with it. I know the bare minimum when it comes to the law in my own country, let alone America, so...basically lets as a group focus on the fluffyangst, k? Dont come cryin' at me about section blahdiblah of the constitution and whatnot.
A/N2: Sorry peeps. Tried save up chapters before posting, but alas I am a fickle sort. Got a couple in the bank, but I remain in awe of those who can post regularly and with big word counts.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“God!”
Calliope Torres, Exclusive TBC Current Affairs field reporter, frustratedly removed the offending windswept hair strands from her newly applied lipstick. Pushing the hair behind her ears, she raised the small compact mirror up to appraise the effect. A modern feminist take on old Hollywood glamour. She primped the bob hopefully and wiped the excess lipstick from the corners of her mouth. It was the third time she had attempted to put her makeup on today. Waking up late, she had miraculously caught a green light luck-out and arrived at the Court House on time, if somewhat disheveled with barely a chance to eyeline at a fortuitous traffic light.
“Cristina, check this for me.”
Callie turned around to face her apathetic cameraman, sat slouched on a public bench, popping gum. Cristina barely seemed to register her comment and Callie raised her eyes heavenwards and exhaled.
“Hey. Slacky McBored. You owe me. Check my makeup. You ruined it before.”
Ten minutes earlier, Cristina had bound up to Callie with the enthusiasm only born of an action junkie to inform her that David Cross had arrived. Body on the line, intrepid reporter Calliope Torres, did not let the fact she only had one eyelid eye-shadowed bother her, and had rushed to get the exclusive interview with…Guy Doom - the local schizophrenic character, handkerchief permanently across his face in the event of chemical warfare. Cristina’s eyes had wandered sheepishly under Callie’s death glare before shrugging apologetically and wandering over to the bench, camera in hand.
“I didn’t ruin it. You have no organizational skills.”
Callie’s eyebrows rose. “I have plenty. Check my makeup.”
“It’s fine.”
“You didn’t even look.”
“Would you listen if I had a comment?”
“Probably not.”
“So, it’s fine.”
Torn between strangling and dropkicking her partner, Callie settled for collapsing down onto the bench beside her, arms outstretched over the back of the seat, and crossing one Jimmy Choo donned leg over the other in annoyance.
“You are utterly useless, you know that?”
“And yet the awards on my mantlepiece say otherwise. Why don’t you harass Pretty Boy?”
Callie glanced at Cristina before looking around, eyes settling on the ruggedly handsome RDTV reporter standing twenty metres away running through test intros with his crew.
“Who, Mark? His forte is ‘what dress looks good with those boobs’ not ‘foundation tones and when to use them’.”
“Hmmm.” Cristina sounded unconvinced.
Callie let it go. The morning sun was full of soft warmth, soothing her as she basked in it. Breathing the crisp, fresh air deeply through her nose, she felt her entire body relax. “So when are they coming?”
Cristina shrugged her shoulders slightly. “Any minute.”
It was big news.
High profile politician and beloved golden boy, David Cross, was the first openly gay elected official to ‘come out’, so to speak, of The South. Bringing with him his partner of 11 years, John Hillbank, everything had been running smoothly until John contracted kidney cancer. An operation had been urgently needed when David was informed that his health insurance did not, contrary to previous reassurance, cover his partner. In this very real life and death situation, $10,000 had been noted to have mysteriously disappeared from the budget and John, Medal of Courage bedecked firefighter, had undergone the surgery.
It hadn’t taken much effort to put 2 and 2 together.
The public had, from whichever perspective, been outraged. The Times and the Post had ranged from reserved to disparaging. The embezzlement was universally frowned upon, but the circumstances…well…and the buzz, on this first court day of Cross vs. State, was that Cross held the winning hand. Information was tight, but something was definitely going to be thrown into the mix today. And 26 news crews were waiting on the Courthouse steps to find out exactly what that was.
Callie bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I bet he’s got something in writing. There’s no other way.”
Cristina shook her head, “Nope, apparently the contract didn’t cover civil unions.”
Callie looked over at her in astonishment. “How -”
“Friends in low places. Only hearsay. If you are going by the contract, he is well and truly screwed, but he’s got something. He’s definitely got something. Why do you think it’s taken so long to come to trial? Prosecution trying to cover their asses over whatever it is.”
As if on cue, Callie caught sight of the luxury car drawing up to the curb.
“Speaking of.”
She nodded in the direction of the car as she pushed herself off the bench and straightened her skirt. Cristina’s head whipped around as the Chief Barrister of the Prosecution began to step out of the car. Grasping the camera and hoisting it to her shoulder in a practiced fashion, she broke into a light jog, “Let’s go.”
Evidently all 25 of the other news crews had noticed the new arrival and within the 100 yards it took for the TBC News Team to make their way over to Mr Webber, there was already a small throng forming. A second car pulled up behind the Chief’s and out of the curb door stepped the Webber&Grace Intern, Alex Karev, self-satisfied smile on his face at the furor their arrival was causing. Out of the roadside door, a glinting head of blonde - professionally pulled back into a tight twist - emerged: Arizona Robbins, Junior Partner.
“Mr Webber!”
“…comment on the State’s take on…”
“INTV News, sir, can we…”
“What will - Ms Robbins - what…”
“Look this way, Mr Karev!”
“TBC News!”
Callie tried to get a word in edgeways as the throng collectively moved up the Courthouse steps following the three-person Prosecution team. Upon reaching three quarters of the way up, Webber swung majestically around to face his captive audience. A hush fell as he began to speak, only camera flashes audible.
“Today is a day about truth and justice. I plan to find the truth and deliver its justice. I have worked hard to be given the privilege of this heavy responsibility, and it is my duty to perform it as such, regardless of personal circumstance. Mr Cross has found himself unable to separate his personal circumstance with the responsibility he was elected to and he has made a rash choice. There are many difficult situations in life, but it is my job to protect and serve the people and their resources. And I intend for that today.”
Callie strained to push the TBC microphone closer without falling over, as Webber paused, then with grand condescension, added, “Thank you.”
Immediately the excitement started back up again.
“Webber! Mr Webber, can you…”
Desperately hoping Cristina was close at hand, Callie saw a small space to squeeze into bringing her within touching distance of the exquisitely pant-suited Junior Partner.
“Ms Robbins, TBC News, what is the exclusive information David Cross has that affects this case?”
Arizona Robbins looked rather annoyed. It was a well known media industry fact that photos of women sold papers and bought ratings. Men like looking at women and women like judging other women. Especially rather good looking women that happened to be successful in their line of work, which was the category Arizona Robbins found herself in. She was subsequently copping the brunt of the media frenzy, all positively enthralled at the prospect of a photogenic woman to give a face to their story. Arizona turned sharply at Callie’s question, lips in an understated expression of distaste.
And did a double take.
It was ever so subtle, but it was there. Callie’s mind went into overdrive. Fuck. She could get away with shitty makeup with men, but women weren’t so easy. Her fucking eyeliner, she knew it had been too thick. She had probably wiped it up the side of her temple. And the woman had noticed. Goddamn.
Arizona’s eyes flicked up to meet her own.
“No…No comment.”
And they were gone.
Callie stood on the steps watching the Courthouse doors they had disappeared through feeling a mixture of confusion and frustration. Cristina appeared at her elbow.
“What DO you have on your face?”
Callie turned her face towards Cristina and gestured accusingly up and down her face.
“I told you to check it.”
Perusing, unaffected by the animosity being directed towards her, the cameraman pursed her lips. “Looks okay.”
“Looks okay?” Callie raised an eyebrow and gazed back at the doors. “But you caught that right?”
Cristina sighed and began to walk up the steps to the Courthouse entrance, turning backwards to face Callie on her ascent.
“If by ‘that’ you mean, did I shoot useless footage of your exclusive, thrilling ‘No comment’ interview where the most interesting thing is the off-camera reporter’s face, then yes I did.”
Callie blinked. “Where are you going?”
Cristina lifted her camera slightly and grinned conspirationally. “Taking the initiative.” She turned around and walked directly into a blue polyester donned chest.
“Initiative stops here.”
Hearing the delighted snigger from Callie behind her, she wiped her face blank and raised a guilt-free expression up to discover the shock of red-hair.
“I’m so sorry, Officer, I appear to be lost.”
Another snort from Callie.
The Security Guard looked down cynically, meeting her eyes.
“I have the feeling you’re the kind of girl that couldn’t get lost in a desert, even if she tried.”
“I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean, Officer -” she glanced at his name badge, “Owen.”
Intelligent eyes sparkled.
“You know, if someone did want to take any initiative, they’d probably get in good with the security guard working this week.”
Cristina cocked her head. “Well, that would be good advice to anyone with initiative, of which I am not.” Cool as a cucumber, she turned back to Callie giving her a flash expression of intense victory before grabbing her arm and dragging her back down the steps. Callie glanced back at the security guard, who was watching their retreating forms and grinning with open mouthed incredulity.
“What was that?”
“That, was just our exclusive in.”
“I love my job.”
“Don’t I though?”
Reaching the bottom of the steps, the pair meandered back to the bench to sit down and wait for the appearance of David Cross and his lawyer. Crossing her legs again, Callie relaxed her head backwards and took in the miles of blue, stretched across the sky. No clouds today. Her mind wandered.
That was the colour. Sky-blue. Her eyes were sky-blue.